


QAF-US Fiction: "Purgatory" (Brian/Justin)

by justinlovesart



Category: QAF (US) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-22
Updated: 2010-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-10 05:49:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justinlovesart/pseuds/justinlovesart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A post-220 story told in 15 drabbles. Ethan never went to the Rage party.</p><p>Many thanks to Secretsolitaire for the beta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	QAF-US Fiction: "Purgatory" (Brian/Justin)

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[my fic](http://justinlovesart.livejournal.com/tag/my%20fic)  
  
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**Purgatory**

1.

Justin recognizes a lesson when he's taught one.

Brian opens his mouth only to breath heavily as he thrusts against Rage, but Justin hears the words clearly.

"It's your choice: in or out. This is in."

Justin could seek the comfort of friends, or lean against bodies bathed in blue light. Only, he's tired of masked faces.

Exhausted.

"In or out."

The first intake of air outside Babylon makes his eyes sting. With the second, he smells the fresh night.

He blinks and looks up, towards the artificial light of a lamppost. Then, the sky above.

He sees some stars.

  
2.

They circle around each other across Mel and Lindsay's lawn, but talk only when they meet in the bathroom.

"No Ian? Too busy fiddling on Pittsburgh's finest streetcorners?"

Justin looks at Brian in the mirror, soaping his hands.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm not seeing Ethan." He dries himself on a white towel that smells like lavender. "Since before the Rage party."

He catches Brian's surprise behind the mask of indifference. "Daphne's?"

Justin smiles, remembering how she ordered him to "bring home some food from the lesbians, so we can have a picnic tonight".

"For now."

  
3.

"Thanks."

Brian shrugs. "It's not a favor. I need the best graphics I can get."

Justin pours coffee in silence. He thinks about the computer and the school fees, and how hard this constant denial must be.

"It will be a great poster," he promises. "You won't regret it."

Then he moves on to the next table.

He doesn't need to turn around to feel Brian's gaze on him: over Debbie's laughter, over Michael, Emmett and Ted's banter, over morning life on Liberty Avenue.

He doesn't need to see him to know how beautiful Brian looks, in his winter coat.

  
4.

"I'll be quiet," Justin assures Daphne, kissing her goodnight. He stays a little longer, because the fundraiser is his success, too.

Phil and Tannis talk to him giddily, while he observes Brian auditioning potential tricks and making sure that Justin has an unobstructed view.

He's glad to be standing at the periphery of drama, for once.

The Corvette slows down as he's walking home, not much later. "Need a ride?"

Justin takes in the green Vette first, then Brian. He's amused, but not at all surprised.

"I should have bargained harder," is all he says, before climbing into the car.

  
5.

They stand on the threshold.

"I'd tie it on for you, but I know you don't wear it anymore." He can still feel the brush of Brian's fingertips against his.

These casual touches last a little longer every time: over a cup that's being refilled, or a ten-dollar tip.

"Thanks."

Stepping into the open loft would be so easy. Not long ago, he would have pushed through a locked door. Now, he wants to hear the unspoken invitation.

He gets the sound of the elevator, instead, and he's not interested in meeting Brian's late-night guest.

"Anytime," he says, before leaving.

  
6.

Justin wipes the spilled coffee off the counter, while Brian challenges him to join in the collective indignation.

But Justin knows him well. "It's your ticket to New York, isn't it?"

"Or maybe I really believe in Stockwell."

Justin isn't surprised by Brian's annoyance. "I hope you get what you want."

Later, Brian leaves his excessive tip. "I hear Paganini won the Heifitz."

Justin nods, preparing himself for the sting.

"Is your little heart broken? That he didn't beg you to follow him?"

He could let it go, pretend he doesn't care.

"Actually, Brian, he did. I chose to stay."

  
7.

Justin leans against the wall, trying to remember his dream... He knows Brian is there even before the sucking stops.

"Do you mind? I'm trying to come."

"Good luck with _that._" Brian dismisses the trick. Then, he closes in.

"Missing Ian already?" He smells of Beam. "Or did you expect him to stay for you? Sacrifice everything for some blond boy ass?"

The backroom goes still.

"For someone who believes in action, you sure know how to hurt with words."

Brian blinks.

"I miss _you_, Brian." Justin whispers, but his voice is steady. "Like you miss me."

Brian steps back.

  
8.

"Where are you going?" Brian sounds suddenly sober.

"To finish what you so rudely interrupted." He's glad to see Brian grin. "Then home."

"Need a ride?"

Justin accepts the apology.

They fuck side by side, Brian sliding in and out of his trick while Justin moans against his.

Justin remembers the sensation of floating and hopes to dream it again.

In the Corvette, they talk. "Are you okay, at Daphne's?"

"Home. Yes, I'm fine."

Brian nods. "So, Ian..."

"Ethan!" Justin laughs.

When the car stops, it's his turn. "Blond boy ass?"

"Justin..."

Justin hears the regret. For tonight, it's enough.

  
9.

"Fucking at the GLC. Who knew."

Justin takes his feet off Tannis's desk. "Who says we'll fuck?"

"Oh, but we will." Brian walks towards him, excruciatingly slow. "Does this cover your rent?"

Justin stands up, arms crossed. "I'm interning for 'the cause'. Besides, I have a project."

"Yeah, me too."

Justin wants nothing more, right now, than to let himself sink into Brian's velvety voice. But he needs something else: they both do.

"Why?" he pushes, because that's who he is.

Tonight, Brian doesn't step back. "Because you miss me."

Justin nods.

"And I miss you."

Justin uncrosses his arms.

  
10.

Finally, the loft.

Justin has never felt Brian's heart beat so fast.

"It was like…"

"Fucking mid-air?"

They laugh, then Brian picks up a copy of Rage. "Like your cover."

The heartbeat slows down, but Justin doesn't move his hand away.

Brian studies the drawing. "J.T.'s hair should be longer," he decides, running his fingers through Justin's locks.

"Next issue."

Justin should be going, but he's drifting asleep when he hears a rap at the door. "Expecting someone?"

Brian doesn't stop touching his hair. "No one. Sleep now."

"My last bus is at eleven o'clock."

"I'll drive you…home. Now sleep."

  
11.

He relishes this hour of the night.

What he enjoys most is stepping out of Babylon and hearing the familiar sounds fade in the distance.

"Good cock, bad cock," he mocks: he'll have to teach Brian how to _flirt_, one of these days.

It's cold outside, and he's looking forward to the warmth of his apartment and hot chocolate with Daphne, after his project.

Should he feel guilty about misusing the GLC's meager resources?

"Fuck them." He slaps some glue against the wall. "They're kissing Stockwell's ass." He sticks up a poster.

Hopefully, someone will do the same for Vanguard.

  
12.

But Brian can surprise him, too.

"Weren't you throwing an all-night orgy?"

"I was. Debbie's still there." Brian looks over the half-open door. "Are you and Daphne done studying?"

"She's asleep. Be quiet."

Justin waits for the reaction.

Brian takes in the sketches, unrolls a few posters. "Agit-prop indeed."

"Yes, Brian, I'm a genius and you're so proud of me, you'll fuck me all night long." He points at the bedroom, elated.

Brian frowns at the single bed.

"We'll fit," Justin assures him, softly. "I know it for a fact." He nibbles the freshly-shaven chin. "Just remember to be quiet."

  
13.

Justin enjoys every minute of it.

"What the hell..." Brian protests when Debbie puts another lemon bar in front of him. "I quit my job, I didn't perform open-heart surgery."

Debbie plants a big lipstick kiss on his cheek. "It's not as if you were caught with your pants around your ankles, either."

"For fuck's sake," Brian tries with Justin. "He's closed the baths, locked the backroom."

Justin can't stop grinning. "And, of course, there are no backrooms in New York."

Brian bites his lip. "It looks like you'll have to buy me a ticket when you're famous."

"I will."

  
14.

They lie side by side, breathless from the deep, slow fuck and the many changes in their lives.

Free of the superfluous, the loft seems suspended on air, their bed floating above it all.

Justin is suddenly overwhelmed.

"So, what are we, now?" he asks, vaguely afraid. "Guys who fuck each other more than once? Unconventional, undefined boyfriends?" For the first time since the Rage party, he feels a little lost. "Partners in crime?"

It doesn't take long for Brian to answer, with fingers that dive into Justin's hair and with words, too.

"Not in crime," he says. "Just partners."

  
15-Conclusion

Liberty Avenue is deserted as they walk towards Woody's.

They take their time, wrapped tightly around each other on this mild election night.

"What if Stockwell wins anyway?" Brian asks. "What if I remain poor forever?"

Justin considers the possibility. "You can live with me and Daphne. Be our houseboy." Brian swats his ass and leaves his hand there.

Outside the bar, they kiss under the orange glow of a new lamppost.

"At least I still have my Corvette." They run up the steps, giddy with hope.

Before stepping inside, Justin looks at the sky: there are millions of stars.


End file.
